Chris raised an eyebrow and waited a few beats for Jared to talk himself into the answer. “All roads lead to Clare. You said it yourself.”
It dawned on Jared slowly. “You got Clare. Adam won, he got the car. You gave up the car but got the girl.”
Chris nodded.
“So, did you get her?”
“Naw,” Chris said, shifting uncomfortably. He looked embarrassed.
“Why don’t you just go get her on your own?” Jared asked, genuinely curious now. “God knows I can’t stand that bitch, but she’s the Faith to your Biggie, you know? You two are meant to be.”
“I’m not into forcing a girl,” Chris said. He was visibly uncomfortable, the first time Jared had ever seen him look that way. “She’ll come to me when she’s ready.”
“I suppose it’s nice to have that option,” Jared said acidly. “It’s fucked up to bet on sex. Don’t get me wrong. I like sex. I don’t care who fucks who around here. But it’s different when someone doesn’t get a choice. I thought we were friends,” he finished, realizing he’d suddenly made all this theoretical talk personal.
Chris grinned, although the humor didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Jared, I’ve got one piece of advice for you, man… don’t hate the player, hate the game.”
Jared barked a laugh. “Right. I’ve heard that one before.”
Understanding flowed between them, and even though Chris was Adam’s best friend, Jared knew this conversation wasn’t going any further.
“You need to come back to school,” Chris said. “Sooner rather than later, bro. Don’t let these motherfuckers get to you. Walk back in with your head held high. You can’t let them win. Not ever.”
“Why do you care?” Jared mumbled.
“Because despite what you think about me right now, I never really cared that much about the bet. We’ve been doing stupid stuff like this since seventh grade.” He shrugged. “You’re not the first person to get fucked over by the Harbor posse.”
“Fucked over, or just plain fucked?”
Chris’s eyes widened, and Jared suddenly realized—
“He didn’t tell you?”
“Naw,” Chris drawled. “Fo’ real?”
“Yeah.” It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. Jared hadn’t moved to Washington, he’d fallen down a fucking rabbit hole. “Saturday night. I thought he would have picked up the Caddy by now.”
In response, Chris drew his keys from his pocket and jingled them in Jared’s direction. “He didn’t tell anyone. If he’d told Clare, then you know every damn person in the state would know by now.”
Jared nodded.
“Be at school tomorrow,” Chris said, swinging his leg over the chair and standing, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m telling you this as a friend, you feel me? Get up, brush your fucking hair, and look slick as fuck when you roll up. Don’t look left, don’t look right. Walk in there and make all those motherfuckers your bitches.”
This time Jared grinned. Biggie had a lyrical way with words, even if he did drop the F-bomb more than any other person Jared had ever known. And his words made sense.
“I’ll be there,” he said.
Chris looked like he was about to say something, then stopped himself.
“What?”
“Here,” Chris said and tossed him the keys to his car. “It’s yours.”
“What?”
“Look, I was pretty much prepared to give it away anyway. I’ll tell my dad I sold it, and I want a new car.”
“You rich motherfuckers make me sick,” Jared said, but he was grinning, twirling the keys around his finger.
“Mostly I just want to see the look on Hemlock and Metago’s faces when you show up in it tomorrow morning,” Chris said. He raised an eyebrow.
It was at that point Jared decided Biggie wasn’t a playah. He was the fuckin’ game.
“A’ight,” Jared agreed. “Do you need a ride home?”
“Nah, I’ll call a taxi. Later,” he said, and sauntered out of the house.
After Chris left, Jared waited a few minutes, then got up and cleared his room of all the crap that had accumulated in the past few days. Then he shut everything down except his iPad and lay back in bed.
Internet porn had started to bore him years ago, but he had recently discovered blogs that captioned erotic images with short stories, and he was currently stalking several of them. With the page loaded and the iPad screen glowing softly in the dark room, Jared slid his hand under his T-shirt, down his belly into his boxers where his cock was already starting to rise.
Touching himself like this was a familiar comfort, an old one that wasn’t affected by any external factors. No matter what was going on in this version of hell, jerking off was always going to feel good. With a strong palm wrapped around his hard cock, Jared thumbed through the blogs, letting the combination of words and pictures slowly turn him on.
As his cock thickened and pulsed in his hand, Jared paused at an image of a younger, smooth-skinned boy with two of his fingers pressed deep in his ass. A tiny noise—a sigh, or groan maybe—escaped his lips, and Jared ran his tongue over them.
He hadn’t done this. Not yet, anyway….
Eyes fixed on that picture, absorbing every last inch of it, Jared let go of his cock and reached down farther, giving his balls a light squeeze and tug, then pressing his fingers behind.
The position was unfamiliar to him, and he didn’t want to flip over on his front and reach back like the boy in the picture. That was too pornographic, especially while this was so new to him.
Frustrated, Jared kicked off his boxers and spread his legs, making more room for his curious fingers.
With his iPad propped up on a pillow, Jared pulled his knees back and gripped his cock with his left hand, which was deliciously unfamiliar, as he spread his cheeks with his right.
He realized, probably too late, that some
